His Killer
by strider7901
Summary: After Faramir's uncle was assassinated, Aragorn has been marked the next target. He must protect himself and his family away from the killer when in truth the assassin is closer than he thinks...much closer...COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own these wonderful characters, but I'll put them back when I'm done.

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Chapter 1

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He breathed in the fresh air as the sun began to settle into nightfall. The wind gently passed through the lightly dusted, grey hair as he smelled the familar plants in the garden. Worries and stress slowly left the body when he looked around to find himself on the pebbled path back to the palace. Aragorn exhaled slowly, thinking of more pleasant thoughts than of the meeting he had earlier from leaders far and near Gondor.

Word came out about an assassination attempt on Prince Imrahil, Faramir's uncle. He died within his castle that rested near the Bay of Belfalas, supposedly shot from a poisonous arrow by a nearby window in his sleep sometime during the dark hours of the night before. No witnesses, no sitings, a sly killer gone free. The murder gave warning that its next target would be of the heir of Isildor.

This has upsetted Faramir greatly. He and his uncle were very close since his birth. During the War of the Ring, he was shot and at near death, Imrahil found and taken him to the House of Healing. Without him, Faramir would've never met his future wife or rather lived thus having no Steward to subsituted the throne. He couldn't bear of losing another friend.

His grey eyes looked up at the stars for the last time before heading inside the cold walls of his home. The worn, black boots softly hit the smooth, marbled floor as he entered the dark halls.

"You shouldn't be walking around alone, my Lord."

Aragorn quickly turned around, finding only Faramir standing in his Gondoran uniform with a exhausted, worried expression marked on his face. The news depressed him greatly but has tried to push the personal matter away to focus on the danger that lays for the king.

He looked at his hidden, saddened face watching him slowly break down of his relative's loss as he tried to find soothing words of the situation. "I am sorry for what happened to him, Faramir. We will capture the murderer in speed."

He nodded to himself and exhaled, trusting the ruler's word. Statues and paintings of war glowed by the lightened candles, sending golden rays of shadow on the two men inside the quiet hallway. Faramir giving a fake smile, "I hope so, but I would sleep better if we had more guards."

As he guided the fatigued man to his chamber, he smiled back easily passing the long flights of stairs to the fourth floor. "I will call more in the morning, you must rest."

They began to walk down the hall, the sound of heavy boots disturbing the silence in the dark halls. For a moment, their minds drifted off to disturbing thoughts about the future. Faramir questioned himself that the man he was walking with may not be living before the next night. He then shook his head, pushing the thoughts away as he wanted to break the quiet noise between them.

"What else have you learned from the meeting?" He asked as he took a quick glance at Aragorn's face while they both passed closed doors that was filled of sleeping maids, chancellors, and others who lived in Minas Tirith.

For hours he only heard arguments of spectulations of who and why the killer did this. No real reason has emerged to the surface, leaving everyone still questioning to themselves. He slowly sighed trying to let out his frustration calmly while he can still hear the booming voices ring in his ears. "Many have thought it was not a human."

Faramir stopped and looked at Aragorn with question, "Not human? What makes you say that?"

"There are different thoughts...some scouts have found paw prints on the ground near his home, it could be some evidence to his misfortune"

"Or just some paw prints."

He slightly shrugs and gently chuckle as they reached Faramir's bedroom door, Eoywn quietly sleeping inside. She waited for her husband to return from the king's arrival, but heavy eyes came as she was reading on the bed and accidently fell asleep. He watches him slowly grasp the knob and twist gently, expecting something to happen. Then sighs of relief as he enters the dimly lightened room, colors of bright gold spilling in the hallway. They both quickly said their goodbyes and anxiously wait for another new day to arrive.

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(At the same time....)

"Mission successful, sire."

"Good...do you have everything ready for the next victom on the list?"

"Yes."

"Excellent, here is twenty-five percent of the bargain."

"Thank you, sire."

"Continue the good work."

"I will report back to you in three days."

"I want him dead."

"It will not fail...."

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	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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She looked like no average commoner from the southern area of Middle-earth. Something about her gave a quiet, secret illusion that no man could point out. Her ebony, black hair and athletic body was always hidden in the worn, black cloak. The green eyes were always on alert but smoothly remained calm to the suspicious lookers.

She entered the tavern, no one really bothering to look up from their drinks. Her current identity didn't draw anything unusual, just looked like an average traveler who came in for a drink. The silent night gave the sober men a pleasant atmosphere in the old, badly cleaned room. A single fireplace burned brightly to keep it comfortably warm, away from the cold air that stirred beyond the doors.

"Well, Miss Miyon, been a long time seeing you around these parts. I have been expecting you." A familiar voice shouted over the muffled noise as he appeared through the crowd.

A small smile emerged through the hood as she extended a hand to the recognized face. Small, immense scars lit up on her knuckles, giving some sign of her dark past.

Halulm was the name she called him. Neither one talked off there past, only and strictly of business. She did find out some small information about him. A middle-aged Rohan, man who had three daughters from two previous marriages. His shaggy blonde hair and rough, deep voice didn't give it away, his name did.

He smiled back and willingly grab her calloused hand, shaking it firmly as his voice turned serious, "What brings you here? He didn't give me enough information."

Miyon glanced to the view behind his head to make sure no one in specific was listening to the confidential meeting. Drunks continued to yell loudly to each other, telling slurred, untrue stories of their imaginary tales and adventures of how they came to this city of Gondor. Then she looked at the muzzled, unshaven face that was staring at her for an answer. "Can we go somewhere that is a bit..." she hesitated for a moment to the right word, "...secure?"

The fat around the heavy man jiggled as he laughed out loud, a smell of some foreign alcohol in his breathe gave out in the air inside her nostrils which made her slightly wince. He pulled the leather belt farther up , not that it needed to be any higher, to the burgundy, buttoned suit and continued to laugh as he motioned his head to an abandoned table farthest from the fire.

He pushed his way through the crowd with Miyon close behind. She pulled down her hood and her sleek black hair revealed to the on looking men. She sometimes didn't mind the attention but now if they remembered her face; it could hurt her job and business. Few maidens who seek of desire and a profit watched her of jealously, wondering how they were drawn back from there drunken clients to the new flesh that suddenly appeared from no where.

She cursed at them under her breathe as they both reached the end of the room, ignoring the few men who glazed upon her secret beauty, "Damn bathes, I liked it better when I was dirty."

"Excuse me?" Halulm questioned her with a smile as he took a seat on the loose, wooden chair that looked as it was to collapse under his weight.

She looked at him as her hands rested on the dusty table while taking the chair across from him, "Nothing, shall we get on with it?"

He chuckled again and agreeably nodded, "Yes, yes of course. I have heard you wanted to get into the palace."

"You heard correctly."

He smiled at the attitude she embarked on him then continued, "My sources tell me that they are looking for maidens to assist the Queen, I have a reserved position for you."

Before she spoke to disagree, a young Gondorian solider approached in front of them. Her heart raced, afraid that he had heard them both talking but gave an innocent smile to him. The glistening metal and the engraved symbol of the White tree distracted his expression as she watched and listened for angered words.

"Milady, would you like to accompany tonight?" He spoke in a kind voice as he took off his helmet, having just arrived in the tavern, and a smooth smile growing across his face.

She exhaled of him thinking of other matters as her gentle expression dropped serious, "I am rather busy to be of fact."

Chuckling softly, he glanced at Halulm, "Would you mind if I stole her and took her home with me?"

He blankly stared back at him and shrugged, "I wouldn't..." then pointed a fat finger to Miyon, "...but she would."

She rolled her eyes, indicating she had enough and stood up as she pulled the hood over her head. Then looked down at Halulm replying, "I will take the position. Until we meet again, sire."

He nodded and saw her leave with the soldier close beside her. He watched him willingly grab her hand but quickly knew it was a mistake as she twisted her's and pressed her thumbs firmly against the back of his hand. He slightly winced at the soldier's pain as she pushed in a downward position towards him. His knees grew weak as he grunted and heard a snap in his wrist, surprised of how she took the effortless heavy, force on him. Finally, she let go and shook her head watching a Gondorian fall before a Beorning woman. Then turned around and disappeared in the crowd, thinking it was going to be an easy task to accomplish.


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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Arwen Undomiel watched her two children peacefully play with each other in the nursery as she waited for her husband. The morning dew had disappeared from the bud's tips as it started to enter noon. She sighed happily, rocking in the new polished, wooden chair, her hands gently running over her stomach. A gentle, small smile appeared on her smooth, soft face as she felt the blue velvet under her fingers while thoughts slowly passed. A child was growing inside and the time to tell him was growing near as well.

Her oldest son raced around the room with a wooden sword in hand, slaying the silver dragon from his sister that lurked under the bed. Arwen laughed softly as she watched this amusement. Toys were scattered carelessly about, most neglected as they came to be more mature. Red and white, silk blankets were wrapped around the tables and chairs for the princess's castle as she laid hidden inside for her brother to rescue her. He jumped up and down near the bed, the sword cutting the air in violence as the evil dragon fell to its doom.

Eldarion stood proudly and eventually pulled her out from the castle as there nanny entered, pulling a new guest beside her. The look of disapproval on her face was not a happy welcome. She was still young but knew many tricks of taking care of the children. Arwen fully trusted her and understood the discipline needed, especially Eldarion.

She rose from her seat and stepped over the toys to reach near the door to greet her. "They have been like this all morning," then smiled to the upset face. "There energy is overwhelming."

Tala's face began to settle as she nodded, "I know." Then sighed from the hours of cleaning the room which was now wasted. She quickly moved on to the next subject as she brushed the room's dust off the corner of her apron, a small grin appearing. "We have a new maid, fresh from this morning."

Arwen smiled as she looked at the calm, green eyes of a young, beautiful woman. She was close to the same age as Tala but showed of a more smooth grace as much like the queen herself. Her black hair was jeweled perfectly of glistering gems that coordinated with the light, mint green dress. Miyon had never felt anything so smooth on her body and grew rather comfortable but a little awkward that she had never worn a dress before. Other women of the same position also dressed alike and assisted the queen when needed.

"I am glad you have come." The Queen smiled, her deep, blue eyes washing over the newcomer.

"As I am glad to be here." The maid bowed honorably. _Your happiness will soon diminish my Queen._

Tala smiled at the two greeting, knowing both well they would get along and picked the right girl. She bowed as to leave, taking Eldarion to his teachings. He refused, of course. But the famous, angered look changed his plans. His sister soon followed behind from under the table, leaving the maiden alone with Arwen.

"Tala is kind. What is your name?" She asked as she pulled one of the blankets off the table and gestured her to a seat.

Miyon pulled a hand-size, doll carriage off the chair as she took a seat, sitting upright with her hands on her lap as she watched Arwen sit in her's "I am Arala."

"What a beautiful name, you are from Gondor?"

She continued to slyly lie, "No, milady. I am from the North...a small town near Bree...Chetwood."

Arwen Undomiel listened carefully about her brief, happy past. Her voice showed of respect and a well educated speaker. Truly, she was impressed.

Phases and sentences of deceitful lies passed easily and smoothly through her soft, pink lips. Talks of an imaginative mother growing old as her children moved out and them making an importance to the world made it simple. She watched the Queen's eyes grow wide of her remarkable travels but didn't allow enough detail to escape; just enough to created an image.

Before the she-elf could ask any more questions and find out more of the mysterious woman, Tala suddenly made a quick burst inside the room, the door slamming hard to the concreted wall. Arwen and the maiden looked at her with question.

"Milady! Eldarion is gone again!" Tala shrilled of fear as her face grew pale, taking the usual case of the ruler's children missing way too far.

Arwen sighed as she carefully pulled herself up from the chair, hoping her back wouldn't snap of her carrying bundle. She walked calmly to her to search for her son. The panicked woman urged her to the door explaining of how he slipped passed her in the hall and escaped further in the palace. The maiden continued to sit and listened carefully in detail of the nanny's words. Images where specific rooms are flowed from her; a key tool into hunting.

She frowned and turned to the girl who gave a worried expression, "Arala, my husband should be here in any moment, when he arrives can you send him a message that I would be waiting for him to dine for lunch?"

Miyon smoothly smiled as she bowed. "Of course, Milady." Then rose as she watched them both leave the room.

Patting her waist, she cursed herself for the knife and weapons left in the tavern the night before. Obviously, a woman seeking a job to serve the majesties would be heavily questioned of the reason why she needed so much protective. Scanning the room, she looked for anything useful. _A letter opener, broken glass...something! Aragorn must be taken off!_ Frantically, she walked across the room and briefly glanced outside the open window. Time was running out and the task must be done quickly. It was noon already.

"Milady?" A cautious voice entered inside the room.

Caught off guard, the maiden turned around and saw him. The same man she could not have relations with nor with his family was in the presence before her. Aragorn stood in his same clothing as in the night before, noting that he was finding latest news and more clues for the killer. Stress hasn't helped him while he worried for his own sake but took more care of his wife and children. "Milady, have you seen the Queen? I assume she was here."

Miyon stared for a few moments as thoughts blocked her response. _Now! No one is here...he is alone. Strike hard._ She smiled as the reality came in conscious and bowed to the king. "You have missed her, my Lord...she brings a message that she awaits for you to dine...after she finds your son."

He chuckles softly and nods, running his hands through his unwashed hair. "Thank you and who may you be?"

Miyon secretly and coyly smiles as she walks toward him through the children's play room. Then motions her hand showing that she was going to escort the king out the door to his destination, "My name is Arala, and I believe you will know much more than a name."


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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Faramir comfortably sat in his seat as he blankly stared outside the window beside him. A load of reports and evidence was piled high on his desk, his blood-shot eyes straining for rest. He rubbed his temples, wishing the answer would jump out. The sun's light shined on the yellow paper, the word's making his eyes cry to rest. He moan as he turned and again went through the list of clues, finding no conclusion of where or what the killer is. "Paw prints," he said, looking over at the new item. "...And I am most surprised how someone got this." He finished; his gaze now on a lock of brown hair.

The sound of children playing in the halls made his blood boil of anger. There was already enough to think about and he didn't need noise to distract him. The brown-haired Stewart rose from his seat and felt awkward walking for the first time in hours. He passed the statues and paintings of his past history when he approached the door, peeking out at the corner. Aragorn's children were screaming of joy, playing games that had to require yelling. He watched them jump up and down, almost knocking over rare figurines on the tables.

He sighed and calmed down, he voice soft but stern through the squealing, "Eldarion, would you please lower your voice?"

Struck of shock, he turned from his sister and grinned, "Faramir!" Then they both ran up to the man, clasping there arms around his legs and shins.

He laughed as he pulled his legs with Eldarion and his sister clinging on into the office. He moved to the bench with soft, feathered pillows hugging the seat and pulled them both off his body. The oldest climbed on the seat, jumping up and down on the bench as the youngest mocked his movements, the air filling of giggles. Faramir decided he would like the enjoyment of having them keep him company and moved back to his desk, grabbing a feather pen, dipping the tip in the small bottle of ink to write down notes.

Eldarion grew quickly bored and stop jumping. He moved down and sat in a gentleman-like manner as he pulled off his loosely fit top garment. His cheeks were bright red from the energy he burned and his fair skin outstood from his tanned arms. His sister sat close to him and calmed down, her small mouth yawning as she watched Faramir.

He stretched in the bench as he, too, gazed at his friend's work. "Guess what?"

The Gondorian stopped writing and looked up from his note, smiling, "Yes?"

"We have a new maid today."

"I am glad to hear."

Eldarion smiled back at him as Faramir turned back to his work. The child hummed to himself as he looked at his sister, watching her find more room on the bench so she could rest her head. The sound of scribbling and the ticking a clock could be heard in the room. Old books of different color and size were stacked neatly on the shelf nearby the busy man, drawing the boy's attention. He jumped off the bench and walked towards him, examining the literature. "Yes, Tala said she is a Beorning. She said she can tell from her eyes, not really trusting the story she told. I wanted her to tell it me but she didn't...what is a Beorning?"

Faramir sighed, making a second thought that he shouldn't have invited the children in. Once again he stopped his writing and looked at the small child that was filled of curiosity who stood next him, "A Beorning is a mortal like you and I but can change into a bear."

The boy's eyes widened of amazement, "A bear! She can?"

He smiled, "I suppose so...a bit strange of having one here, usually they are around Mirkwood."

Aragorn's son shrugged, pretending he knew what he was saying, "Well...she's pretty, you should see her."

He laughed as he dropped his pen and scuffed Eldarion's brown, curly hair into a mess. "We will see. Now you better go find your mother. You didn't run away from Tala, did you?"

The quiet room became not so calm after he finished speaking. A low yell from a distance in the hall could be heard, calling the children names. It was the nanny running through the halls and bursting through doors searching for them in a panic. Eldarion quickly smiled at Faramir and ran towards his sister, pulling her out of the chair. She squirmed in her seat, her eyes drowsy of sleep as she pulled away, moaning and crying to lie back down. The boy growled, wanting to continue the game as he carefully lifted her up, his arms trying to grasp around the girl's lower back.

The Gondorian watched the boy drag the girl's feet out the door, wondering if he should've stopped them. He shrugged and went back to his work, staring at the notes of ideas of why a paw print would be found on his uncle's yard.

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_Look, he is right here and I can not do a thing!_ Miyon smiled softly through her screaming mind as they both walked calmly down the hall to the dinning room. It wouldn't be for another ten minutes until Nidla was going to serve the family so Aragorn decided to slow his pace; he wasn't really hungry, the stress took his appetite.

He gently smiled at the new maiden, watching her officially wrap her arm around his and guide him to the destination. "Lovely children you have, my Lord." She said, her voice calm and soft as her white slippers lightly tapped the cream-colored marble floor.

The king nodded, "The youngest has Arwen's eyes. She grows every day becoming more of her."

She listened to his wise and smooth voice. The sound and tone reminded of her father's voice. Miyon has vague images of her family, all burned inside there home at the time of the Ring. The war greatly affected the soldier's families but also the civilians who weren't involved. Orcs set homes on fire all around Rohan and a few other places. She was forced to leave only to protect herself, growing up alone and living the style of a ranger most of her life. She took no sympathy and forced herself to committee to her work, pushing hurtful feelings of love and support away. The beautiful girl grew up to a stunning woman and was trained to a man hunter while she grew to hatred.

He turned to face her and saw her green eyes slowly drift off in thought. He watched her and decides to continue the conversation thinking that something bothered her, "Do you have any children, milady?"

Miyon's eyes focused on the reality in front of her and shook her head, "No...I just never had the time to have a family, I suppose."

"Suppose?" Aragorn laughed, "What does the lady do to avoid a new beginning in life?"

She smiled not answering the question as she drew closer to him, somehow feeling comfortable near the king. She looked down the hall, the dining room coming near. People of importance passed her, maids caring baskets of clothes or Chancellors talking softly to each other. A few soldiers stood in there positions against the wall as some walked around to patrol the halls. She stop walking, pulling Aragorn to stop as well as her eyes fixed a gaze on a familiar face, the same soldier from the tavern she met the night before.

Miyon cursed under her breathe as she turned her face, hoping the man didn't see her.

"Milady?" He asked. The soldier's figure was more balanced to the ground and his voice was now sober. His right hand was bruised purple, too swollen to fit his glove on. People questioned of the injury but a simple tale of a heroic fall by catching a maiden who fallen from the balcony proved the wound popularity.

Her face turned to face him and smiled, giving a black expression, "Who are you, sire?"

His mouth dropped but quickly closed it, not believing the words. He swore it was the woman; he couldn't forget the face. He turned slightly not realizing it was king whom she held and immediately bowed to his presence, his voice deep and serious, "Forgive me, my Lord."

Aragorn nodded as he turned to face the woman again, "Do you know this gentleman?"

"I have never seen this man," she replied, looking at the soldier.

The soldier's fair skin began to blush, thinking he made a fool of himself under the king's eyes. He scratched his rough jaw line, questioning himself and looked in her familiar eyes, "You reminded me of someone I knew...at the tavern."

Aragorn perked an eyebrow after hearing what he said, everyone knowing that drinking was prohibited on duty, "Tavern?"

His hazel eyes widened as he pushed himself to a deeper hole. He quickly bowed, "Forgive me once more, I have a previous engagement, my Lord...and I'm a bit late."

The king nodded, giving him permission to leave and both watched the soldier pass them both down the hall. He shook his head as Miyon laughed and continued walking to the end of the hall and entered the dining room, her mind forgetting what she originally came to do.


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

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_There was a strike across her face, "What are you thinking?! I thought I hired the best!" The cloaked man yelled._

_She was confused. How could she do this? She came to kill him not to become...friends. "Nioh, I will do the job."_

_They both stood face to face. The night covered his body but his cloak was lightened by the moonlight, "When morning reaches, there will be king?"_

_"I took you, I will kill him!"_

_"Good, now get up!"_

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Miyon awoke as her body turned around from the bed to the floor. She laid there, ignoring the pain and her face expressionless. "What am I going to do?" She whispered as her new bedroom stopped spinning in the warm night.

Then she sat up, her knees moving to her chest and her chin on her knees. The assassin looked at the knife on the nearby table that gleamed by the moonlight. _Tonight is the night he must go.... _

She really needed the money. How else could she survive? There were too many debts that needed to be paid. Miyon continued to stare at the weapon. She couldn't do it. The best killing machine had feelings, now? _...but he was so kind. A father, my father. NO! I have no father, nor a mother, anymore! _Anger grew inside her. To be loved was all she wanted and she never received that. Miyon screamed as she lunged for the knife. _Niohl, your wish will be commanded._

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Faramir decided to call it a night. It was far too late, and he needed to rest. Hours upon hours he looked at that evidence. _It is right here! Screaming for me to know! Who are you?!_

Then, he gave one last stretch in his chair before moving to his chamber. He looked around his office and at the bench. It was ruffled from the horseplay the children had done earlier. _Yes, Eldarion. He's so much like his father and his mother, especially. He would make a great king when the time will come. Probably marry a maiden knowing him. _ The Steward chuckled to himself as he grabbed the only lightened candle by the desk. He stumbled out his chair, and eventually slowly strolled to the hallway.

His thoughts carried far, smiling to himself to be with his wife again. He would like to hold her and comfort her after being neglected for two days. _She is so beautiful...pretty...pretty? Eldarion, you said the maiden was pretty. Wait, the maiden?!_

Faramir stopped cold in his tracks. His heart pounded in his ears in fear of the king. _The maiden?! She's the bear! Bear tracks, bear...yes! Aragorn, oh Valar!_

"Aragorn!" He cried in the hallway. He hoped it wasn't too late as he ran to the king's chamber.

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_There he is sleeping. He looks so calm, just like his friend's uncle. Faramir was it? _She tightly held the knife in her shaking fist. A dark cloak covered her nightgown and her hair. A devilish smile emerged on her face as she looked at the scene. Arwen was beside him, her arm wrapped around his waist. _They both look at peace. Look at her, her face nuzzled in his neck. What a tragedy this would make her...and to her unborn child. Now, move! _

She softly jumped from the window sill to his floor and quickly moved in front of the king.

She stood there as if she had all the time in the world. No one saw her, no one could have. Her hunting skills couldn't match to the keenest ear. A warm breeze blew into the room from the opened window beside them. Her shadow covered Aragorn as he continued to lye in his bed. He truly was at peace.

Miyon gazed at his neck, wondering if she should start there. Then, Arwen slowly stirred in her bed, shifting to make herself comfortable. Thinking something was out there, her eyes opened and saw the killer before her.

The assassin didn't move. They both stared at each other as the girl's throat dried quickly. _Now what? Valar, what do I do?_

Then, she heard the footsteps. The pounding on the floor matched her heart. Panic came to Miyon as she struggled in her mind. _But how? They could not have heard me. _

Fear marked Arwen's face. She opened her mouth as a scream filled the room. Aragorn quickly awoke from his upset wife and held her, confused. "Arwen, what is it?" His back was against the killer.

Miyon's smile widened and threw the knife. Her aim was perfect. Arwen screamed louder as she saw the blade cut the air. Then, grabbed her husband and twisted her body around to the front of the killer. It was so fast, it even amazed the assassin. Blood oozed from her side as the weapon injected into her back.

Shouted orders were being carried as Faramir and his soldiers came closer to the door. Time was too short. Miyon's expression grew to shock. Her chance was ruined. _Run!_ The door burst open and Faramir's face matched her's. Four soldier's held there swords high, and jolted to the killer in the dark room.

"Arwen!" Aragorn cried at his wounded wife. The sheets were soaked of her blood when he immediately pulled the knife from her. Tears came to her blue eyes and felt the room spin from losing so much blood. He grabbed a sheet near them, and placed pressure on her wound; he wanted to protect his wife not himself.

Miyon drew her sword from her cloak as the first soldier ran to her. There swords met as two more ran from behind. Faramir, having no weapon, shouted to awake the sleeping night. The killer dodged the sword behind her, and kicked the soldier in front as she swung the blade around her. _The window!_ She glanced at her only escape before she felt her body knocked to the floor. Landing on her back, she recognized the soldier who hit her. _The soldier at the tavern! How dare you?! _Her foot swung over and kicked the side of his right knee. The weak patting caused a crack in his leg and another scream of pain filled the room.

As Aragorn continued to tend to his weakening wife, he shouted orders at the soldiers. Faramir watched the men go to the commands and struggled to catch the sly girl.

Miyon jumped from the ground and ran towards the window, but was thrown down again. Three swords swung toward her body, only blocking two. The remaining pierced her leg and a cry came from her soft lips. Blood pooled on the floor as she struggled to get up. Faramir stepped on her cloak, making her stop from rising. _There is way to many! _She untied the strap and the dark cloak fell on the ground as she arose again.

The wounded soldier saw his chance and his blade met her neck. In one quick swift, her head was separated from her fragile body. Both pieces landed on the floor as the room grew silent. The king was saved.

Aragorn looked at his wife as Faramir approached them. Three soldiers kicked the useless body into the hallway as the rest ran to find a healer. Arwen's hand tightly gripped his nightshirt, waiting for the pain to seize.

She said nothing as he looked at her, cradled her, doing everything he can! Mixed feelings was marked on his face as one last tear drained from his wife.

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The King waited inside the House of Healing the following morning. Dry blood was still on his hands as he anxiously paced around the room for hours. The sun shined through the windows, a new happy but saddened feeling was dancing in the air.

"My Lord," A maid suddenly approached him from the quiet room. Aragorn stopped and jumped, nodding for her to continue, "She is well. All is needed is rest."

Aragorn smiled of relief as she left to the door. Not realizing the sudden burst from the door, her nose smashed into the wood when Faramir opened it from the other side, crying of joy to his friend. The woman grabbed her nose, tears swelling in her eyes as well of her small, once perfect nose.

"Milady!" The Steward grabbed her shoulders, "Are you all right?"

She only nodded and slipped from his grasped to the door, not wanting to show the king her tears. Aragorn shook his head as Faramir shrugged, "I didn't mean to hurt her. My King I bear news!"

His smiled widened, "I know, she is well."

"No, something else." The Steward straightened up and tugged his deep blue vest, preparing himself. "The killer is dead, and we have traced back her history to the person who has hired her."

"Please, continue."

"Niohl is all we know of his name. I have a small league to his capture as we speak."

Aragorn's heart lifted more, "Thank you, Faramir."

He continued to smile, "...And what I heard from the healers...you will be a father again."

The King let out a deep chuckle as he rested a hand on the Steward's shoulder. They both moved to the table as rejoice took their souls. Laughter was heard once more after days of searching, stress leaving the men. The killer's body was burned and forgotten, no one feeling sorry of what happened to her. No one wanted to know of her dark past but of what would've happened in the future of Middle-earth. And that was all that really matters.


End file.
